


Death's Revenge

by LadyRosalune



Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: F/M, Iroh (Avatar) is a Good Uncle, POV Aang (Avatar), Past Aang/Katara (Avatar), Post-Avatar: The Last Airbender, Spirit World, Stubborn Katara (Avatar)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-29
Updated: 2020-04-29
Packaged: 2021-03-01 23:13:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 15,025
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23915122
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyRosalune/pseuds/LadyRosalune
Summary: It's been ten years since the war ended, and Aang isn't sure where he fits into this new world. When he offends a powerful spirit, Aang has to face the consequences of his actions as well as his past choices and core beliefs. Rated T for themes. Cannon compliant for AtLA but not TLoK.
Relationships: Aang & Ummi (Avatar)
Comments: 7
Kudos: 7





	1. The Island

He had enjoyed ten years of being totally irresponsible. Some would argue that the young Avatar was owed as much after defeating Fire Lord Ozai and ending the Hundred Year War, but others, including his closest friends, thought he really needed to get back to restoring balance in the world. Since the war ended, the new Fire Lord, Zuko, had worked hard to reestablish the Fire Nation for a time of peace. Meanwhile Sokka had become the leading representative of the Southern Water Tribe and continued to support the Northern Tribe in international negotiations as well. The Earth Kingdom was being ruled by a now well-traveled Earth King who counted Toph Bei Fong and the inestimable General Iroh among his most trusted advisors. 

With all of his friends taking prime roles in the future of the world, Aang sometimes felt guilty for the past decade. After all, where had he been when the Fire Nation colonies were uprooted? Where had he been as the Fire Nation experienced massive rebellions demanding Ozai be reinstated or when the rural regions of the Earth Kingdom had largely been overrun by bandits that the army was still too weak to fight off? His friends had banded together but he had been largely absent. Just like last time. 

Aang sighed looking down at the clear ocean from Appa’s saddle. He loved watching the ocean. It reminded him of a simpler time when she had still been there. After the first year of constant travel and sightseeing, his dear Katara had left. She said they needed to do something to rebuild and support their friends. But he hadn’t been willing to listen. Instead of following her back to civilization he’d dropped her off on Kyoshi Island and flown away. The next week he’d had nightmares where she drowned or was burned and he was unable to save her, but he couldn’t go back. He couldn’t bear to see her disappointment. Not again. 

Since then he’d been on his own. He’d traveled across the continents pursuing spirits and legends. Truthfully, he didn’t know how he fit into this new world. Now that his attention was no longer fixed on Ozai and defeating the Fire Nation’s schemes, Aang realized he was living in a world that had lived without the Avatar, without him, for a hundred years. This world didn’t need the Avatar, and there was no Air Nomad nation to rebuild in the wake of the war. There was nothing left of his own childhood. 

Rather than face the emptiness, Aang had begun running. He’d fled from those who’d known him and from those he felt he couldn’t help. And now, just like last time, he was alone with Appa. 

As Aang sat, consumed by his thoughts, his bison noticed what he didn’t—land. It was the first land they’d seen in over a day as they’d flown east over unknown waters. Most people assumed there was no land this far east but Aang was never one to take the word of most people over a hunch. It was only as Appa began his grateful decent that Aang noticed the small island surrounded by the sea. 

“What do we have here, boy? Hopefully we can find some fresh water and food.” Appa roared in agreement and touched down gently on the white sand of the beach.

Aang leapt lightly off his back, still as nimble at twenty-two as he’d been at twelve, and stretched. They hadn’t landed in almost two days, and man and bison were both ready for a break. Before beginning to explore, Aang bent some fresh water from the sea for himself and Appa. Then as the beast began his well-deserved rest, Aang set off to see what sort of island they’d found. The island had appeared vaguely circular from the sky, with beaches on one side and cliffs on the other three. The middle of the island was densely forested, and this is where Aang began his exploration. 

As he delved into the trees, he felt a familiar pang in the absence of Katara’s exhortation to be careful. He firmed his jaw and continued deeper. At first, Aang was cautious, worried that there could be wild animals or pirates somewhere, but as he walked farther without seeing any other life, he wondered if the island was inhabited at all. The trees were silent and still, no rustle of leaves from wind or birds. After half an hour of this, Aang stopped and began searching the ground for bugs. There was nothing but dirt. 

The eerie silence was beginning to get to him, but the Avatar was also intrigued. What sort of island had trees but no animal life at all? Aang looked pensively up into the tree cover, and then began hopping up into the branches. From the trees maybe he’d be able to see something different—something not visible from the ground. 

When Aang’s head finally broke through the canopy, his first thought was that there was still no wind. Only then did he notice the larger trees looming ahead of him, at what he thought was the center of the island. They were darker than the surrounding trees and seemed to be growing in a small circle up ahead. Aang descended back to the path and continued on his way with renewed interest. The trees around him now were typical of this latitude in the Earth Kingdom, but the ones up ahead seemed different somehow.

When Aang reached the first of the larger trees, he knew at an instant that he’d found something. The tree was dark and gaunt. Its bark was a dark grey with leathery leaves that were almost black from afar. The trees were also taller than any Aang had seen on any island, where most plants usually stayed smaller. Aang hesitated for a moment at the edge of the grove, the lack of other life weighing heavily on his spirit. But these questions of nature and spirit were ones he was comfortable with. This was his element and he was the Avatar. With a calming breath, He stepped past the tree. 

Immediately Aang was struck by a wave of cold. The balmy late summer heat was replaced by a frosty nip that wouldn’t be natural for another three months. The silence was oppressive now, even his own footsteps sounded muffled. Aang swallowed hard and kept walking. 

In front of him, the trees opened up into a clearing. The light from above was still blocked by the leaves, but for almost twenty paces there was nothing growing. Not a single blade of grass rose from the black soil. Instead, a symbol in glowing green cast a ghoulish glow on the enormous trees. Aang stepped back, feeling suddenly sick. Whatever this place was, it wasn’t natural. He knew he had only two choices—he could return to Appa and fly away or he could cross to the spirit world and find out what this place was. 

Once again wishing he had his friends here to help him, Aang stepped back amongst the trees and sat down. Meditating was hard in the unseasonal cold but Aang was a firebender, so he was able to draw on his internal flame for warmth. Soon his breath leveled, and Aang felt himself float away from his body.

Nothing could have prepared him for what he saw. Crossing into the spirit world from the physical world usually takes one initially to a point that looks like that spot in the physical world. From there one travels further into the spiritual realm to places that look nothing like home. However, the landscape around Aang was impossibly different from the one he’d left. The forest he sat among had become towering cliffs surrounding a glowing crater. There in the middle, through the mist, he could vaguely make out the same symbol, brighter than before and somehow more menacing. 

Aang looked behind him and saw black beaches falling swiftly to the ocean. There was no life here, not even the trees that had inhabited the physical island. For a moment Aang stood still, wondering if he should turn around. This was a far more dangerous destination than he’d really had in mind when he’d flown away from the Earth Kingdom. He’d really been hoping for a coral reef or more Unagi. But as he gazed down into the pit he suddenly noticed something new. There was another light down there besides the green symbol. Something cold and blue drifted through the fog, looking lost. Perhaps a spirit had gotten trapped in the fog?

Aang moved tentatively toward the edge of the cliff and noticed what could have been a trail, faintly descending into the crater. He’d have to edge sideways along it to reach the bottom, but Aang was confident in his balance. He crossed to the beginning of the trail and put a foot on it.

“I wouldn’t go there if I were you,” said a lilting and almost oily voice. 

Aang spun around, schooling his face to stillness. “Koh.” There in front of him reared up the serpentine body of the Face Stealer, one of the eldest spirits. 

“Even the spirits do not tread this ground lightly, and no mortal has ever come here.” Koh said again, smug in his superior knowledge.

“You’re here,” Aang replied stoically.

“Yessss.” Koh said slowly, drawing out the word into a hiss. “Your past life, Roku, asked me to come when he realized where you were.”

“Roku sent you?” Aang asked, feeling the hope spread across his face. As Koh whirled to face him, Aang regained control of his features. He hadn’t been able to make contact with the past Avatars in several years now, another reason for his reluctance to return to the world. 

Koh frowned, his face transforming into a young woman, pouting at Aang with eyes too blue. He recognized Ummi, the young lover of Avatar Kuruk, and reminded himself of the dangers in this conversation. Cautiously, he spoke again. “Why did Roku send you instead of coming himself?”

“How should I know?” Koh drawled. “Maybe he was afraid. If so he’s wiser than you are.”

“Why? You still haven’t told me where we are.” Aang said slowly, thinking back, searching his memories for anything like this place. 

“You don’t know it?” Koh gasped, mock surprise making the blue eyes grow wide. “It’s the End.”

“End of what?” Aang asked carefully. 

Koh laughed. “ _The End_. It’s where spirits die. Human spirits who pass into it are never reborn. It’s the End of the worlds, both yours and mine.”

Aang struggled to hold back a frown. He knew that there was a place, a burial ground for spirits if you will. But the glyph and the lights were not mentioned in any history or myth he’d heard. “Then what’s the blue light? It looks like someone is down there.”

Koh rolled his body in a sort of shrug. “Probably a trapped soul. It’s far too late for you to help if so.” Replacing the Ummi’s face with a mask, Koh turned to leave, crawling toward a hole in the cliff that Aang had not noticed. “If you focus you can probably see whoever it is. The mist isn’t real, it’s only in your mind.” 

Aang looked thoughtfully down again, then turned back to see that Koh had vanished. He sighed. Why had Roku sent Koh? Why had he started avoiding Aang in the first place? There was nobody left to answer these questions, so Aang turned back to the crater. He sat back on the cliffs and began to focus. Many things in the spirit world appear as one expects. So perhaps if he cleared the fog from his mind, he’d be able to see the crater better.

When he opened his eyes a few minutes later, Aang gasped. Below was a massive circle, inscribed with dozens of other shapes to create a woven appearance. The lines glowed green and in the middle was a vast darkness like a pit. Then Aang found the source of the blue light. Huddled against the wall of the cliff was a figure in blue with long dark hair. 

Aang jumped up and began running around the lip of the crater to get a better look. The closer he got the more sure he was. “Katara!” He screamed, throwing himself at the edge of the cliff above her. The figure didn’t move, but continued to huddle in place, a small spot of blue surrounded by glowing green. 

Aang looked around, frantic for something he could use to help her. He had suspected for years that Katara was the reincarnation of Roku’s wife and likely had been with many other Avatars as well. If she was sucked into the gate down there, he just knew that he’d be alone in every future life. Blinking back tears he stood, and circled back to the beginning of the path. Slowly, Aang began the descent into the pit.

As he slowly moved closer to the circle, he felt a sort of pull, guiding him closer to the center. He fought it back and continued to move across the wall toward where blue figure huddled. By the time Aang reached the bottom, he felt like he was swimming against the tide to avoid the magnetism of the gate. 

Finally he reached her. “Katara, how did you get here? You have to come with me. We have to get out!” 

She continued clawing at the wall, ignoring him. He grabbed her shoulder, spinning her to face him, and found nothing. Her face was blank and featureless, large eyes unseeing and empty. 

Aang jumped back. Koh. How had he gotten to Katara? Was this even Katara? Without her features, and after nine years, he couldn’t be certain. Either way, he couldn’t leave her. He grabbed her hand and began pulling her up the path to the edge of the cliff. 

If he’d thought the magnetic pull was bad on the way down, he now realized how wrong he’d been. He could barely walk, and he had to pull the woman with him every step. As he walked he grew exhausted. Each step they took was smaller and slower. They weren’t even halfway up the cliff yet. 

The only warning Aang had was a slight tightening of her hand. Then the wall behind his ear exploded. There was nothing to grab and they plummeted down to the floor together. 

When Aang looked up, he saw the glowing green line mere inches from his face. He pushed himself up and back away from it, but the effort was exhausting. The woman next to him was huddled against the cliff wall again, whimpering now. Aang looked around, trying to find what had interrupted their climb. 

“I don’t take kindly to mortals stealing from me.” A quiet voice said from everywhere at once. “Even the spirits are wise enough to know that what enters my domain is mine.”

Aang shuddered. The voice was cold and soft and deadly. “I am the Avatar. This woman is a friend. She is coming with me.”

The voice laughed, a sound like a dying rasping breath. “I know who you are. But she is mine and now you are too.”

“Who are you?” Aang asked hesitantly. “I thought this was the End.” 

“ _I am the End_.” The voice roared. “I am the eater of worlds and the final resting place of spirits. You are a stranger, a trespasser. And you will be devoured.”

As the voice spoke, the mist returned, swirling now into a funnel atop the gate. Aang could feel the wind of it pulling at him, drawing him in. In a sudden fit of fear Aang turned and tried to find a handhold on the wall. There was nothing to grab. 

Turning back, Aang saw that the funnel was growing taller. It had colors swirling. Still mostly green but white and black and yellow as well. It looked like rot, like death. 

Taking a breath and focusing, Aang tried to call on the Avatar state. He hadn’t been able to do it in years, but he knew of no other way out. He couldn’t fight whatever this thing was on his own. Rather than the unfeeling light blazing through him, Aang felt only fear. Just as he was about to give up hope, a ball of fire exploded into the gateway. 

Aang looked up in surprise, right into the eyes of Roku’s dragon. The beast landed heavily in front of him and Aang was drawn into a vision of himself riding away from the pit. He grabbed the woman and placed her on the dragon before leaping onto his back as well. 

The dragon took off and a furious scream rocked the crater. The funnel returned, spinning faster now, trying to drag all three of them back. With a grunt of effort, the dragon loosed another fireball. The scream became one of pain as the dragon flew up and crested the cliff. It flew down, below where Aang had entered, and landed exhausted on the beach. 

Aang descended slowly and turned to help his companion down. She was sitting straight, shaking like a leaf on the dragon’s red scales. Looking at her empty countenance made Aang’s heart break. As he gently lowered her from the beast, she clung to him, sobbing. Together they sat on the beach of black sand, she crying and he gently stroking her hair. 

Now that he was closer to her, Aang was sure it was not Katara. She was shorter than Katara and her hair was darker and smoother. Despite that, Aang knew that he’d met her. When he heard the soft sigh from her lips, he froze. “Kuruk”

Ummi was dead. After Koh stole her face she’d died. But this was the spirit world. Had her spirit been wandering here, blind, all this time? Aang slowly lifted her chin and looked into her blank face, empty eyes and unmoving parted mouth. “Ummi? Is that you?” She gasped, nodded her head, and buried her face back into his shoulder. 

As Aang tried to process this information, a sudden chill descended on the group. He and Roku’s dragon leapt up in unison, staring back at the cliffs. There, right on the lip of the cliff stood a foggy silhouette, mottled in the green light of the pit. 

Aang shuddered as the cold voice from the pit washed over him again. “You, Avatar, have dared what no other has. You have stolen from my very mouth and fought me with fire. You will pay for this insult. Until you restore to me what is mine, my gateway is closed.” The figure faded away like mist in the sun, and everything was still for a moment. Then a great crack resounded through the silence. The cliffs began to splinter and dance, rock moving like the ocean in a storm. Then the rocks began to fall—not out, toward the beach, but inward, blocking the light of the gate. 

Before Aang could even rise to his feet, the quakes had subsided. He carefully walked forward up to the cliffs and saw that the entire circle was blocked by the fallen stones. Pensive, Aang returned to Ummi and the dragon.

“Can I speak to Roku now? I’m not sure what just happened but I need his advice.”

The dragon snorted fire, and touched Aang lightly on the head. In flashes of color, Aang saw a vast room full of beds filled with coughing, groaning sick, group of spirits wandering aimlessly on the beach, a battlefield where the heron-crows pecked and screams filled the air, and last he saw Roku, pale and scared, shaking his head in disappointment. “What have you done?” The old man’s quiet voice echoed in Aang’s head like a bolt of thunder.

With a flap of his wings, the dragon took off, leaving Aang and Ummi alone. Aang sagged, unsure for the first time since he’d seen Ummi in the pit. Hadn’t he done the right thing by saving her? He didn’t believe in letting anyone die after all. 

As he looked down at her empty face where she had fallen asleep in exhaustion, Aang knew he couldn’t regret his choice. He’d saved her. He’d face the consequences, whatever they were.


	2. The Sickness

Katara sighed, weary from spending long hours in the healing hut. The young sailor in front of her was sick, dying from a disease she couldn’t cure with her bending alone. If they’d had the necessary herbs and medicine, she might have been able to save him, but the poles were dependent on trade for all medication and the ships were late. There was no sign of the trade ship, and with time running out, Katara knew he was dying. When the boat hadn’t arrived this morning, she’d known he wouldn’t make it, so now she sought only to make him comfortable for his passing. She bathed his brow with cold water to keep down the fever. She’d been bending for too long today to waste her waning energy on one who could not be saved. 

“Hi Sis,” Sokka said softly, walking up behind her. He had grown and was as tall as their dad now. He’d filled out as well, looking the part of a future chief. His eyes still glimmered with mirth, but right now she could only see the quiet wisdom of too many years in battle. “He’s still holding on?”

Katara sighed again, dipping the cloth back into the bucket of cold water she had next to her. “I don’t know how. He should have died long before dusk but he’s still fighting. I can’t do anything to help him, and his pain is just growing. Sokka, I’ve never seen anything like this.”

Sokka’s brow furrowed. Katara was the best healer in the tribe and one of the greatest in the world after her long years studying with her Northern sisters. He was torn between wanting to ease the young man’s passage and knowing that there were others who were injured who needed tending. He wasn’t even sure Katara could continue healing tonight. She looked utterly exhausted. He sighed, “Go to bed Sis. You can’t help him now. I’ll watch over him until he passes. You won’t be able to help anyone if you keep up this pace.”

Katara looked up defiantly, clearly ready to argue, but when she tried to stand her legs buckled and she fell right back onto her stool. “I guess... there’s no way around it.” Katara said softly, taking her brother’s offered hand. He helped her up and she gingerly tested her legs. She hadn’t stood in hours and her legs felt like water. She stood still for a few moments as blood returned to them, and then began gathering her belongings. She hated having to leave, hated that she wasn’t strong enough to heal through the nights when it was needed, but with a sigh she braced herself for the cold of outside. Despite being summer, the pole was cold at night. She was relieved there was no snow. This late in the summer, a snowfall after dark was not unheard of.

When Katara entered her room at the palace, she fell gratefully into the pile of furs by the fire. Beds, she thought happily, were overrated. With that single thought, she was asleep.

Back at the hut, Sokka took over her watch at the poor sailor’s bed. He couldn’t stop thinking of Katara’s words that he ought to have died already. He suspected that Katara had continued using her bending after there was no chance of recovery and had accidentally extended his suffering. He sighed. That would be just like his sister. She was far more like the young Avatar than she would like to admit. Neither could accept the reality of death and both were incurable optimists. 

The man groaned, and Sokka changed the cloth on his brow, trying to cool the sailor’s fever. It was hot even to him. The man couldn’t last much longer in this condition. Sokka sighed, hoping his vigil would be shorter than his sister’s.  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
General Iroh had grown old since the war ended. Ten years may not have seemed long to his nephew and his friends, but to Iroh it had been the passing from middle age. His joints were creaky and he couldn’t bend with the ferocity of a decade ago. Not everything had changed, though—he still loved tea and his fellow man. This morning, Iroh was bringing tea to the hospital for the sick there. About four years ago, while Katara had been visiting, she’d given him the idea to bring tea there. Ever since, Iroh had made it a weekly routine. 

As Iroh entered the building with his kettle and tea ready, he was immediately struck by a difference. The imposing building was still immaculately clean inside as the doctors and nurses bustled through the antechamber and into the wards branching off for three stories. Nothing appeared out of the ordinary, but Iroh had lived long enough to know when his gut was right. He stopped a young nurse that he knew, Xiao Wu, and asked if something was wrong.

“Ah, Master Iroh. I’m glad you’ve come. We’re not sure if anything is wrong exactly, but there is something a bit strange. Ah, why don’t we set up your tea, and I’ll try to explain.” She turned quickly and led him back into the small kitchen that the herbalists used for their poultices. 

She didn’t seem interested in continuing her story, instead looking preoccupied, so Iroh brewed his tea in silence, knowing she’d explain when she was ready. With the first pot of tea ready and a group of cups found, Xiao Wu led him out of the kitchen to the first floor room which was the terminal ward. These were the sick who were going to die, regardless of what anyone did. Few doctors entered this room. Only nurses and family, trying to make the dying comfortable. 

Before she opened the door, Xiao Wu stopped and fidgeted with the hem of her apron. “Master Iroh, I’m not sure how to explain what’s going on, but you should know. No one’s died in this ward since yesterday noon. We had three who were expected to die in the night. They’d said their goodbyes and everything. Some doctors say this is a miracle. Others say it’s a disaster because we’re out of beds in this ward.”

“What do you say, my dear?” Iroh asked softly. 

The nurse’s brow furrowed. “I-I’m not sure. We never want to see anyone die, but is living in this condition better?”

Iroh nodded slowly. “Well, the least we can do is bring them some tea.”

Together they stepped forward into the room. The sight that met Iroh’s eyes was subtly different from any other time he’d been in this ward. He could see the curtained off beds where the most critical slept. There was movement behind them; nurses and doctors trying to understand what was keeping these pained patients alive. Across the room, other patients seemed to understand something was wrong. 

This was the source of his earlier feeling, Iroh realized. This is what was off. The emotion in this room wasn’t peaceful acceptance of what was to come. That peace had been replaced by confusion and fear. 

Iroh sighed and schooled his face to hide his worry. The people here didn’t need another soul worrying over them; they needed tea. So Iroh began pouring tea, trying to wash away some of the fear in the room. All the time, he watched the patients and nurses. He could tell which patients had been expected to pass in the night. They didn’t appear to have improved, and yet they held on to life.

Iroh spent all morning at the hospital, serving tea to worried patients and confused doctors. When he left, he asked Xiao Wu if any of the critical patients had passed. She frowned and shook her head, concern in every line of her face. Iroh nodded, and returned home deep in thought. 

When he arrived, he took out his ink and parchment and began a series of letters, beginning with one addressed to his nephew.


	3. The Spirit Oasis

When Aang awoke beneath the black trees, he wasn’t sure what had happened at first. He’d dreamt of Katara, of lying with her on a beach and stroking her hair. The softness of her hair on her colorless cheeks… He bolted upright. Ummi. Where was she?

He looked around desperately, trying to find her. Finally he realized that she wouldn’t be here under the trees of the physical world with him. She was, after all, dead. As he sat to contemplate what had happened, he finally noticed what was different—the darkness. The symbol in the clearing and its accompanying glow had disappeared. 

Aang wasn’t sure what this meant, but he figured it would be bad. He turned to start back toward Appa before thinking again of Ummi. She had to get away from this place in the spirit world as well. He sat back down and began to calm himself. When he opened his eyes, trees were replaced by cliffs again. 

He found Ummi where he’d left her on the beach. He gently woke her. “Ummi, get up. This place isn’t safe.”

Ummi looked up, her face blank but her body language portraying confusion. 

“We need to take you to place you can stay. I’ll come visit you, but not here.”

Apparently she understood, because she nodded and let herself be drawn up to her feet, ready to follow him. Aang paused. He hadn’t yet thought about where she’d be safest. His thoughts were drawn to the spirit oasis where La and Tui dwelt in peace.

“Do you know your way to the North Pole?” Aang asked hopefully. Ummi nodded slowly. “Then let’s go. I have friends there who will protect you.”

Ummi nodded again and held tighter to his hand. She led him to the edge of the sea and began to walk across it. Aang hadn’t explored the spirit world much, but walking on water was definitely a new level of weird. Distances were funny here too. It took only moments for ice and snow to come into view. 

As much as Aang wanted to accompany Ummi to the pool, he knew he needed to return to the physical world and find out what had happened. He kissed Ummi lightly on the forehead. “You can’t miss the Spirit Oasis. La and Tui are there in the physical world. Wait for me there. I’ll come visit.”

She nodded and continued walking as Aang hesitantly turned back. This time he ran, and it took no time for him to find himself back on the beach. He quickly returned to his body and began the trek out of the forest. It took less time than it had getting to the clearing. 

Appa licked him thoroughly as soon as he arrived. “Sorry boy. I didn’t mean to be gone so long. We need to get back to the Earth Kingdom. I think something is happening.”

Aang nimbly jumped back onto the bison. “Yip yip!” He called happily and the two rose up into the air and turned west, back toward civilization.  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
A day later Aang spotted the edges of the Earth Kingdom. So far, he couldn’t see signs of any changes. However, he wanted to find a town so he could ask around. He knew Ba Sing Se wouldn’t be too far away, but he was hoping he could avoid the Earth Kingdom Capitol if at all possible. 

Aang had Appa descend at the first town. It was a small village on a river, clearly a fishing village, since there was no trade east of Ba Sing Se. Aang entered carefully, cloaked and with his hood pulled up against prying eyes. 

Everything seemed normal. There was no panic. No spirits had torn apart the city. Nothing at all seemed out of the ordinary. Deciding his fears were unwarranted, Aang decided to stop by the market for supplies. 

He was standing in line looking at fruit when he overheard the conversation at the fishmongers. “That’s what I was saying. My boy fell right into waves. I was fighting through the crowd to get to the wharf. He’d been under too long when I got there but I dived in anyways. I hauled his body up to the surface, sure he was dead but someone got him breathin’ again. I ain’t never seen anyone cough up so much water.”

“Tan, you must have been imagining things. He must have come up for air while you was fighting the crowd.” His companion clapped him on the back laughing.

“I asked around,” Tan insisted. “No one saw him come up. Even the bubbles and splashes had stopped. He should have drowned.”

They began walking away and soon Aang couldn’t hear their discussion. He stood, thinking for a while. The father was probably wrong and his son had gotten a breath. More importantly, if the only gossip was around a boy who didn’t drown, it looked as if nothing interesting was happening here at all. 

Smiling, Aang retrieved his purchases and made his way back to Appa. Before sleeping, he decided to go back into the spirit world to visit Ummi. Having someone who wasn’t disappointed in him made a nice change. 

Once again, a journey that would have taken more than a day in the physical world passed in less than an hour in the spirit world. When he arrived at the North Pole, he found Ummi at the Spirit Oasis, just where he’d told her to wait. 

“Ummi,” he said softly, moving toward her waiting form. She jumped up from her place near the pool and moved quickly to him. She shifted lightly, as though nervous, but grabbed his hand and drew him to the pool where she pointed excitedly at the fish.

“Yes Ummi,” Aand said smiling. “Those are the spirits in the water. They actually live in the physical world but because they were originally spirits you can see their reflections here.”

Before he could stop her, Ummi plunged her hands into the pool trying to catch Tui. The koi swam right through her hand. She froze and looked up at Aang. He tried not to stare at her blank eyes as she stood up and hesitantly reached out to touch him. Her body visibly relaxed when her fingers lightly brushed Aang’s robes.

“Don’t worry. I’m here,” he said softly, taking her hand in his. “The fish aren’t in this world which is why you can’t touch them. But I’m here with you. You don’t have to be afraid.”

She nodded slowly and moved closer to him, wrapping her small arms around his middle. Aang started, but after a beat wrapped his arms around her too. He held her until she had calmed, then told her stories about Tui and La and the other spirits. He couldn’t read her expressions, but her body language showed rapt attention. Eventually he’d have to leave, but something in this frightened and faceless woman drew him to her. Even if the world didn’t need him, Ummi did. 

It pained him when he had to leave, but knew he had to get back to Appa and his own world. She tried to follow him when he turned from the oasis. “Ummi, you have to stay here. It’s not safe out there.” Her shoulders slumped but she obediently sat. He smiled at her. “Thanks Ummi. I feel better knowing you’re here safe.”

She nodded and watched him leave. 

When Aang finally returned to Appa, the night was half gone. He knew he’d stayed too long at the North Pole, but he didn’t really care. Instead, he wrapped himself in his light blanket and lay down against Appa to sleep. His dreams were filled with a familiar water tribe woman dancing as she had after the end of the war at Zuko’s coronation. But with every spin her eyes shifted from blue to an empty white and back. When she stopped dancing, her eyes were closed. He awoke before they opened and sat for a long time, wondering whether he’d wished for them to open to reveal blue or white.

When he finally rose from a restless slumber, Aang felt very ready to go find some moose lions or platypus bears to play with. Instead, he was surprised to see a messenger hawk sitting on Appa’s saddle.  
“How did you find us way out here?” Aang asked softly, rubbing the bird’s head with his finger. The bird squawked gratefully and extended its leg. Aang took the small piece of paper from the tube on his leg. When he unrolled it, his eyes narrowed. 

_Something is strange. Must confer. Return to Ba Sing Se at once.  
-Iroh_

Sometimes Aang wished the old general would treat him more like the Avatar and less like a child. But alas, Iroh would do whatever he wanted, so there was no use complaining. Instead, he packed up his meager belongings and climbed back onto Appa. “You can ride this time,” he seriously told the hawk, who squawked again and settled into a perch on the saddle. “Alright, Appa. Yip yip!”


	4. News

When Katara entered the healing hut for the morning, her first stop was the young sailor. “Kala, how is he?”

The young healer, who’d come from the Northern tribe to study under Katara, sighed. “There’s been no change. He’s still hanging on but only by a thread.” 

Katara stood looking down at the man thoughtfully. This was the third morning since she’d left his bedside exhausted, expecting him to die in the night under Sokka’s watchful gaze. Somehow he was still alive. 

Behind her, the door opened slowly and Sokka stepped inside. “Katara,” he said softly. “Come down to the dock. The trading boat has just arrived.”

Her eyes widened in understanding, and she glanced quickly at the young man. Looking determined, she hurried to the dock where a few boxes full of medicines and herbs were waiting for her. Enlisting a few young men to help, she carried her goods back to the healing hut and immediately set about preparing the medicine that might still be able to save the young man. 

When she sat down beside Kala, the nurse began to smile. “I’ll leave you to work your magic,” She said softly before moving to assist the other patients. Holding back her nervousness, Katara began to administer the medicine, using waterbending to trace its progress through the man’s body. She felt for his heart beat and fever, bringing cold water up to cool his head while she waited to feel any strength returning to his body. After half an hour of careful watch and ministrations, she felt his breath coming easier and a quiet sleep took him.

She sat back, tired from her work and watched him rest peacefully for the first time in days. It was too early to be sure, but he just might make it out of this alive. That thought eased her tired soul and she stood and began to make her rounds.

When evening finally took hold, she stepped outside and ran right into her father, Chief Hakoda. “Katara, I was looking for you,” he said quickly, his hand out to help her balance. 

“Hi Dad,” she yawned. “I’m ready for dinner and then bed. Do you mind if we talk on the way?”

He smiled and they began the walk back to the palace. “Katara, I just got a messenger hawk from General Iroh in Ba Sing Se. He wanted to know if you’d noticed anything odd in the healing hut over the past few days.”

Katara frowned and thought for a moment. “Well yes, we’ve had a few patients fighting harder than we expected. We have a young man who we thought would have died days ago who may actually recover with the new shipment of medicine that came in today. I wonder how Iroh knew.” She shrugged. “But then again, Iroh always seems to know more than anyone else.”

They spoke of other news for the rest of the walk. The ports were still clear and they’d hopefully have another month or two before their access to the rest of the world was cut off. They needed them to stay open as long as possible so they’d be able to build up their stores of food for the winter. With the tribe rebuilding, their resources were being stretched further with each passing year. Trade had eased many of these burdens, but especially during the winter they needed a stockpile set aside. Katara thought especially of the herbs and medicines. They’d be lucky if they received one more shipment before the freeze.

By the time she sat down to eat, she was yawning again. Healing was really very tiring. She’d never understood why it took more energy to heal than it did to fling ice shards at an enemy, but right now she didn’t think she could lift her hand to either. 

“Katara, you should respond to Iroh. I’m sure he would like to know what you’ve noticed here.” He set down a piece of parchment and a quill for her. “I’ll send it as soon as you finish.”

Katara sighed, but dutifully took up the quill and began her letter. She didn’t want to make too big a deal about it, she could have judged her patient’s state wrong after all, but she was too tired to be diplomatic. The letter ended up containing far more of her amazement regarding his survival than she’d intended. However, before she had a chance to rewrite it, Hakoda had snatched it up to send and told her firmly to sleep. 

She didn’t argue. Why was healing so exhausting? She slipped happily beneath her furs and was asleep almost instantly. 

Hakoda took the letter and read it thoughtfully. He’d seen many people die. Based on Katara’s descriptions, that young man in the healing hut should have been one of them. If anyone would know what to do with this information it would be Iroh. Before heading to bed himself, the Chief of the Southern Water Tribe attached the letter to the messenger hawk’s leg and sent him back to his master. Surely Iroh would be able to help them understand.   
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
“And no one has been able to move these rocks?” Fire Lord Zuko asked slowly, pinching the bridge of his nose to try to contain his annoyance. This is why he’d wanted to have earth benders come to the Fire Nation. 

“Yes my Lord,” the guard said quickly, keenly aware of the slight smoke accumulating around the annoyed fire bender. “But we have a team digging in toward one of the side tunnels. We can’t try to reopen the entrance here because the whole mountain could cave in.”

Zuko sighed. “And the missing miners have been trapped for two days now? How long will it take us to break in? They could be dead already.”

“We are expecting the tunnel to be completed by nightfall,” the guard assured him. 

Zuko nodded and turned away. “Make sure it is and call me once you’ve gotten inside. We’ll need search parties to check for survivors.”

The guard bowed and hurried back to his men while Zuko walked back to the town. As always, he was surrounded by his little entourage of Royal Guards, servants, and the town leadership. He ignored all of them. 

Ten years as Fire Lord had seen a lot of changes in Zuko. He’d filled out and his hair was longer. He knew that without his scar he might have been mistaken for his father, but Zuko resolutely ignored that fact. His patience had actually grown, but the amount of incompetence he was forced to deal with had grown proportionally, so he still found himself holding himself back from throwing fireballs at people most days. 

As he approached the small inn where he was forced to stay in this mining town, a servant came running to meet him holding a messenger hawk. “My Lord! It just arrived from the Capitol!”

Zuko took the bird and found two small letters attached to its leg. The first had the seal of his chief of staff at the palace. He opened that one first.

_This message arrived for you. It appears to be from your uncle, so I sent it on to you at once._

Immediately Zuko took the other letter. Indeed the seal was that of his uncle. He opened it quickly and his brow furrowed as he read. There were strange occurrences in the hospitals of Ba Sing Se. People recovering from wounds that should have killed them; others hanging on to life by a thread long after they ought to have perished.

As Zuko sat down at the small table that had been offered to him as a desk, he began to write a series of short inquiries to the minister of health and some of the regional governors. He had not been alerted to anything unusual happening in the Fire Nation, but it wouldn’t be the first time his uncle noticed something before anyone else. 

His afternoon was occupied with other matters of state, they never ended when one was the Fire Lord, and he’d largely forgotten about his uncle’s letter when a servant came to alert him that the tunnel was completed. 

Zuko threw on the heavy royal robe he’d shed while working and returned to his entourage for the walk back to the mine. When he arrived, search parties had already been sent inside. 

Before he could convince his own guards that it was safe enough for him to enter and help search, two of the guards came out, helping a limping miner. His leg had been crushed by a falling rock, but the skin was largely intact and the cuts he had sustained had been bandaged with what appeared to be his shirt. They lowered the miner to the ground and reentered the mine looking for more survivors.

The miner saw Zuko and tried to stand. “Stay still,” Zuko said gently. “You’re injured. Can you tell me what happened?”

“Ah my Lord,” he said softly, pausing as another guard gave him a small skin of water to drink from. “My Lord, it was an ordinary cave in. I thought we’d be trapped there, but your men dug us free.”

“Were there others with you?” Zuko prodded.

“Yes your Majesty. It was them who got the rock off me. They were still looking for people trapped but I can’t walk you see, so I had to stay.”

“And the dead?” Zuko asked softly.

“I didn’t see any, Lord.” The miner shrugged. “We was all thirsty and hungry, and I saw some men who couldn’t move, but I never saw anybody dead.”

Zuko frowned thoughtfully. He’d come to this village to honor the dead who always accompanied such incidents. It would be unheard of for a mine this size to cave in and there be no casualties. “Thank you for your service. Rest now.” He said, distracted by his thoughts. There was nothing he could do now but wait and see what the other search parties turned up. 

Over the next hour, another dozen miners with variously severe injuries were escorted from the tunnel. Although several were unconscious, none yet were dead. The physicians he’d brought with him from the capitol set up a triage tent and began taking care of the wounded. 

It was dark when the head physician came to speak to him. “My Lord,” he said quietly, jerking Zuko from his thoughts. “Several of these men are severely dehydrated. A few have lost a great deal of blood. However, all of them should be able to recover with treatment. If they were going to die, they would have before we arrived. It’s quite remarkable really.”

Zuko nodded slowly. “So they should have died in there, but didn’t, and now we can save them?” He asked carefully.

The physician nodded gravely. “Exactly, my Lord.”

Zuko pursed his lip and thanked the man. The physician bowed low and returned to his work. As Zuko turned to leave, he paused by one of his guards. “Please stay here with the physicians. I have a letter to write. If anyone dies, let me know immediately, regardless of the time of night.”

The guard bowed and went back to the tent. 

Zuko continued back to the inn, wrote a quick follow up letter to his uncle, and asked a servant to find a messenger hawk to deliver it to Ba Sing Se. After that, he readied for bed. He wasn’t sure if he hoped to be woken in the night and told someone had died or not. His job was certainly easier if there were no casualties, but those men had been trapped for almost three days. How could they possibly have all survived? 

Uneasy haunted his sleep as he wondered what had happened and what his uncle knew about it. When he finally awoke to light out of his window, his spirits fell still lower. Something was very wrong.


	5. Reunions

When Aang arrived at Ba Sing Se the day after receiving Iroh’s letter, he went straight to Iroh’s tea shop. He didn’t particularly want to see the old man, but he knew he’d dawdled as much as he could on the way and it was now time to face the old general. 

Aang entered the shop quietly and took a seat at one of the small tables where he could see the kitchen of the shop. A young waitress came up to him and took his order. It was Iroh who brought out his tea. 

“It’s good to see you, Aang. How are you? It’s been a long time since you’ve told me anything of your travels.” 

Aang took a sip from his tea before speaking. “It’s good to see you too, General Iroh. I got caught up in my work and haven’t kept in contact with many people.” 

Iroh’s expression was odd, almost like he knew Aang was lying, but he didn’t press him. “I have to work a bit longer. Please enjoy your tea and I’ll come chat with you as soon as I can get away.”

Aang nodded, relieved he could avoid this conversation a bit longer. However, just as soon as he’d gotten comfortable with his tea, another voice broke him from his reverie. 

“What do you know? Uncle was right! I didn’t think you were actually coming Twinkletoes. I’m almost glad to see you.”

“Hi Toph,” Aang said softly, eyeing the earth bender as she sat down across from him. Although she was still petite, his friend was also in her early twenties now and looked far more like an adult than he would have believed back when they traveled before the war ended. But as she put her feet up on the third chair at their table, it was obvious that she was still much the same as she’d been when they were children together. 

He swallowed at that. They weren’t really friends anymore were they? They had been children together. He and Toph and Sokka and Katara and Zuko. They had been children and now they weren’t. He would have given anything to be a child again with them. 

Toph frowned at him, her unseeing eyes fixed on his chest. “What’s wrong Twinkletoes? Your heartbeat sounds… sad.” She paused, gauging his reaction but he didn’t reply. “Are you going to tell me why you’ve been avoiding us since Katara left you?”

He cringed. Of course they’d noticed. They weren’t stupid. “I don’t know Toph. You guys have your things you’re doing and I’m the Avatar and doing my things and you know. It’s hard to stay in touch.” 

Toph rolled her eyes theatrically. “Sure. It’s hard. It’s not like your friends being worried about you is hard. It’s not like your friends having to rebuild the freaking world without you is hard.”

Aang looked like he’d just been slapped. Toph couldn’t see it but she heard his heartbeat speed up and his sharp intake of breath. “You don’t have to do this alone you know,” she said finally.

Aang was quiet. He took another sip of tea. “I do though. Ten years ago we ended the war but eleven years ago, at least to me, there was no war.” Toph tilted her head, but stayed silent. He continued, “I don’t— Toph, I don’t belong here. This isn’t my world.”

She frowned at him then. “Of course you do. You may not have been born at the same time as us, but this is where you are. You had friends before you slept for a hundred years and you miss them. But right now you’re trying to go back to sleep and miss your chance at a life with the friends you've made since. You’re an idiot Twinkletoes.”

He gaped at her. “You’re wrong.” He said suddenly, surprising even himself with his heat. “That’s not what’s going on at all!”

She smiled sadly. “Then why not talk to us? You didn’t come visit Sokka and Suki after their children were born. You know they have two little meat-eating fan-wielding girls. You didn’t come to Zuko and Mai’s wedding or see their little boy. You didn’t see Katara’s wedding either-”

“Katara’s married?” Aang almost shouted. 

Toph smirked. “No but I had to see if you were paying attention. If she had been married you wouldn’t have even known though would you?”

Aang’s whole body felt limp. Toph was right of course. While he’d been gallivanting across the world, his friends had grown up. “But see, I am alone. You just proved it.”

“You stop right there Twinkletoes. Stop pouting. You’re not a kid anymore either, so you should stop acting like one.”

Aang flinched again. “Can we talk about something else? Please?” Toph frowned. He was sure she’d argue, but then Iroh returned and took the seat that Toph’s feet had been using. 

“You two seem to be having a lively conversation.” He smiled at them both. Neither of them returned it. Toph crossed her arms in front of her chest. 

“You’re right.” Iroh continued. “This is a time to be serious.” He turned to Aang, his eyes piercing. “Something’s happening. People who ought to be dead aren’t dying.”

“Isn’t that a good thing?” Aang asked hesitantly. “I mean, I heard a rumor about a little boy who should have drowned but didn’t, and his father was able to save him.” 

Toph frowned. “What do you mean they ‘ought to be dead’? 

“Well,” Iroh said slowly, folding his hands across belly. “In the case that Aang mentioned, it sounds like a young boy was under the water for too long and breathed too much water to have survived. And yet, he did. I’ve been spending long hours at the hospital where the injured and dying are holding on to life.”

Aang lit up. “See, I told you this was good. The world is always better when we can save a life!”

Iroh frowned. “In general, I agree with you. It is always a tragedy when someone departs this world before their time. However, not all those who have not died have recovered. The boy you spoke of survived because his death was a question of time. What of those who cannot be saved? Those who are living with extreme pain? This is the problem at the hospital. A few of their dying have recovered, but most cannot recover. Their bodies are dying but their spirits cannot leave.”

Aang went pale. “Why would something like that happen?” He asked quickly. “I mean, what could make that happen?”

Iroh looked sharply at Aang then, studying his face. “I was hoping you could tell me, as you are the Avatar.” 

Aang laughed, just a bit too high and fast to be natural, “Why do you think I know anything about this. I’m just a kid after all.”

“No you’re not,” Toph scoffed. “You’re in your twenties, same as me. Doesn’t matter though since you’re lying anyway.” She settled her arms on the table and faced him. “So Twinkletoes, what’s going on?”

Aang looked as though he might faint. “I didn’t mean to do anything. I was just trying to save Ummi.”

“Ummi?” Toph looked at Iroh quizzically. “Who’s Ummi?”

Iroh frowned, “I only know of one Ummi but she’s been dead for centuries.”

Aang looked down at his hands. “She was trapped by the End.”

Iroh sucked in a breath. “Aang, you didn’t interfere did you?” 

Aang nodded slowly, refusing to meet his gaze. 

Iroh bowed his head, silent, but Toph interjected. “Someone care to explain what’s going on? What’s ‘the End’? Who’s Ummi?”

Iroh took a sip of his tea and looked expectantly at Aang. Aang only groaned. 

“This isn’t funny. Uncle? Twinkletoes?” Toph repeated, her frown deepening.

“I can’t say I know much more than legend my dear,” Iroh said softly. “The End is the final resting place of spirits. As for Ummi… Well, Aang, you really know far more than I do. I’m afraid all I know is from Koh.”

“Koh doesn’t know anything,” Aang spat. When Toph and Iroh stared at him, he flushed. “Well he doesn’t. He has her face but not her.”

“Wow Twinkletoes, thanks for all that great information,” Toph drawled. 

Aang’s flush deepened. “She was Avatar Kuruk’s girlfriend,” he continued. “She had gone to the spirit world looking for him and found Koh. Koh is an old spirit who steals the face from anyone who shows expression when talking to him. I guess Ummi didn’t know and her face was stolen. She died soon after, and Kuruk let the world fall apart in grief.”

“Ok…” Toph said slowly. “So how exactly did you save your dead girlfriend?”

“She,” Aang gulped. “She was trapped by the End. I didn’t find it on purpose but I found the island east of the Earth Kingdom. I thought—” his head bowed and his voice grew soft. “—I thought she was Katara.”

The table grew very quiet. “Tell us what happened after you saw her.” Iroh said softly.

Aang sighed and told the whole story. His audience listened with rapt attention as he told of their narrow escape. “We thought we were free and safe, and then the spirit of the End told me he was closing the gate. I didn’t know what that meant, but then he created a rock slide and blocked off the pit. General Iroh, I don’t know what I’m supposed to do.”

Iroh was silent for a long moment. Finally he whispered, “nor do I.”


	6. Mae Lin

By the next day Iroh had received responses to his letters. Katara and Zuko both confirmed what he’d already suspected—no one was dying. It had been nearly a week now, much too long for this to be a coincidence. 

Aang and Toph were staying in Iroh’s small house, as the three of them tried to understand what to do. If Toph and Iroh thought Aang was spending an abnormal amount of time meditating, they didn’t say anything. For his part, Aang wanted to be away from them and couldn’t get his mind off a beautiful water tribe girl with white eyes. 

“Ummi,” he began, breaking their comfortable silence. She raised her head to look at him. “Do you think I did the right thing?”

As always, she did not speak. She only cocked her head and continued to stare at him.

“General Iroh thinks I’ve messed everything up. I bet Toph thinks so also. I really am the worst Avatar.”

Ummi gently patted his cheek. The feeling was soothing.

“But I don’t see what’s wrong with this. No one is dying. It’s a dream come true. Why can’t everyone be happy?” As he spoke, Aang’s eyes lit up and he began to grow irritated. “They don’t understand! I’ve spent my entire life trying to save people and now I have! Why can’t they understand that?”

Ummi nuzzled back into his chest. “At least you don’t hate me,” He said softly, brushing his fingers through her hair. 

She sighed into his chest. _“Aang”_  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
_“Aang”_

He could still hear the way his name sounded on her lips and it sent shivers down his spine. The sound haunted him on the journey back to his physical body. He hadn’t responded to Ummi, only held her tightly. He didn’t know what to say. Any potential responses were drowned out by his name in her quiet voice, echoing through his skull. 

_“Aang”_

“Hey Twinkletoes. You meditate too much.”

Aang jumped. He opened his eyes to see Toph, sitting on his bed, smirking. He frowned. “Is there a reason you’ve been watching me?”

Her smirk grew wider. “I was waiting for you, not watching you.” She waved a hand in front of her eyes. “Remember? Blind.”

Aang rolled his eyes and stood up, stretching. “Fine then. Why were you waiting for me?”

“We’re going to the hospital. Uncle Iroh goes every week to serve tea and he said we could come along! You’re going because you’re the Avatar and that’ll make people feel better while I’m going because these poor sick people need a bit of wit and humor in their life.”

Aang’s mind was invaded by the image of Toph, laughing, as she pelted rocks at poor sick people, or worse, at him. He groaned. “Do we have to? I’ve got important Avatar stuff to take care of here.”

“You’re lying.” Toph stated, shrugging. “Look, you’re either coming willingly or I’m wrapping metal cords around your body and animating you like a marionette.” 

Aang visibly paled, though Toph could only feel the sudden instability of his heart rate. “Good. That’s what I thought. Get ready and let’s go!”

So it was that he found himself an hour later standing in front of the Ba Sing Se hospital with Toph and Iroh, carrying a large basket full of tea supplies. 

Now that he’d been dragged away from his thoughts, Aang didn’t mind the idea of going to the hospital. He had no healing ability (he still didn’t understand why’d he’d never thought to ask Katara to teach him), but he did have some little airbending tricks that would make the kids happy. So rather than complaining, Aang decided to make the best of things. 

The young Earth Kingdom nurse who greeted them, Iroh called her Xiao Wu, took them back to the kitchen to begin making the tea. “I’m glad you’ve come and brought your friends, Master Iroh. Things are getting strained around here. At first we were happy our patients weren’t dying, but it’s becoming a crisis.”

Looking confused, Aang interrupted. “Isn’t it good if people don’t die? That means they can recover right? You’re saving people!” 

Xiao Wu sighed, looking down at the Avatar. He was still so young. “We’ve had a handful of patients recover, yes, but beds are being emptied far less quickly than normal so we’re over our capacity. The doctors are busy and confused by the odd turns so many diseases have taken and they’re stretched thin with the number of patients. In addition, there’s a terrible shortage of pain medications across the city. Since people aren’t dying, they stay in pain far longer, some it seems will be in pain indefinitely.”

Aang frowned and opened his mouth to argue, but Iroh set a hand on his shoulder. “Ah Aang, you have the spirit of your people, the Air Nomads. I know you do not wish for anyone to hurt or die, but death is as much a part of life as birth is. A world without death is out of balance.”

Aang stared at his feet, still frowning. How could one respect all life without fighting against death? Toph’s voice shook him from his reverie. “Come on Twinkletoes. The tea’s ready and we’ve got plenty of people to cheer up. You won’t make anyone feel better if you sulk.”

She grabbed his arm abruptly and drew him from the room. Before Iroh could follow them, Xiao We spoke quietly, “That’s the Avatar isn’t it?”

Iroh nodded, but did not speak.

“He’s so young.” She looked awed and a little sad.

Iroh’s voice was quiet as he gathered the teapot and cups, “Yes he is. And everything he’s ever believed about himself and his culture is about to be tested. When he defeated my brother he managed to do so without taking his life, so instead of facing the shortcomings of his understanding, he avoided the issue. This, however,” he gestured to the hospital around them, frowning, “he cannot avoid.”

This week, they started with some of the more minor injury wards. The people had broken bones or wounds that would get infected if they didn’t heal properly over the first week or two. None of these patients were in any danger of dying, but they could be crippled if they tried to leave too soon. 

Aang jumped into action. These were people he could help. He performed tricks, told stories, and even signed a couple autographs. The patients were smiling soon as they enjoyed their tea. By the time they left that first ward, Aang was smiling too.

The next ward was filled with children. Aang’s eyes shown as he began again. Although many of the children smiled and clapped, a few were very still, staring at him with glassy eyes. Their looks unnerved him, but he wasn’t sure why. 

After a few tricks, Aang walked over to where Xiao Wu was tending to a young girl in the far corner of the room. She looked to be about five, and her eyes were a beautiful green that had been dulled by pain and fever. 

“Hi,” Aang said softly, squatting down beside her. “What’s your name?”

The girl didn’t even move her head to look at him.

He looked at Xiao Wu questioningly, and the nurse sighed. “Her name is Mae Lin. There was an epidemic in the spring and summer that killed many in Ba Sing Se, especially the young. Mae Lin was one of the last to catch it, only coming down with the disease a few weeks ago. She only had days left, but then the deaths stopped. She’s been lying here, on the verge of death for a week now. She can’t even speak now that we’ve run out of her medications. Sometimes she’ll cry, but she’s far too sick to move.”

Xiao Wu paused to change the cloth on the girl’s forehead. When she continued, she was quieter. “One of the doctors wanted to try to give her a fast acting painless poison, to put her out of her misery, but we’ve had patients come in due to poison. Even deadly plants and scorpion-snake bites aren’t killing people. We can’t save Mae Lin, but we can’t set her free either. She’s trapped in a dying body.”

When Iroh walked over after the tea was gone, he found the Avatar alone, kneeling at Mae Lin’s bedside and crying as he held the girl’s emaciated hand.


	7. Hakoda's Story

As she had every day for the past week, Katara left the healing hut feeling mentally and physically drained. When the young sailor had been cured of his illness, Katara had felt happier than she could imagine. But the strange moratorium on death hadn’t ended, and not everyone could be healed. Katara now had a whole line of cots holding patients she knew couldn’t recover. Today she’d helped deliver a baby that was three months early. The baby should have been dead before he breached, but instead his mother was still holding him, sobbing, as he took shallow breaths and remained otherwise still.

Katara’s eyes filled with tears at the memory. She had always known the pain of loss and death, she remembered that clearly from her childhood. But this? This was torture. The tease of a body that still breathed when her healing experience knew it could never recover. 

She entered the palace, planning to go to her rooms and cry herself to sleep, again, when her father approached her. “Katara, are you alright?”

She stood still for a moment, then shook her head, refusing to meet his gaze with her tear-filled eyes. 

“Come, let’s have tea. General Iroh sent us some earlier this season, so it’s real Earth Kingdom tea.”

Katara followed her father numbly until they reached a small sitting room with a warm fire. Inside, Sokka and Suki were sitting, already waiting for them as the tea steeped. For once, her brother didn’t speak. He simply rose and wrapped his arms around his little sister. 

For a moment they stood like that, still, before the dam broke and Katara began sobbing into his shoulder.

“Shh. It’s ok Katara.” He soothed, patting her back. “I know it hurts but you’ll be alright. Come on, sit down.” He led her slowly to where Suki sat, and the Kyoshi warrior turned Water Tribe princess joined the hug.

Katara cried into the arms of her family for several minutes. When she finally calmed down enough to let go, she found a warm cup of tea waiting in her father’s outstretched hands. “Thanks, Dad.” She said softly, her voice weak and ragged from crying. She accepted the cup from him, took a deep breath, and looked at them all. “Why are you here?”

Suki smiled and patted her back. “We’re your family. This…ordeal has been difficult for all of us, but none so much as you. And, honestly Katara, you don’t ask for help when you need it. You’ve always carried your burdens alone as long as I’ve known you.”

“We wanted to make sure you were alright.” Sokka finished simply, tightening his hug a bit. 

Katara fought down the wetness she could feel returning to her eyes. She took a sip of her tea as an excuse to dodge their eyes and felt a relaxed warmth make its way through her body with the tea. “Thank you. I… I’m not sure how much longer I can do this.” She glanced up and saw worry and a bit of confusion in her brother’s eyes. 

Hakoda nodded sadly. “You are so much like your mother.”

Katara stiffened and looked at him, her shining eyes wide. He didn’t talk about their mother often.

Hakoda sighed. “Your mother couldn’t bear the thought of losing anyone. She too was a healer at heart. She wanted to erase pain, fear, and death from everyone around her. But that was when she was younger. Things… changed when her father got sick. 

“This was just after Sokka was born, before Kya got pregnant with you. Her father, Iluq, had been one of the village elders and had helped to fight off one of the last Fire Nation raids. He was shot with an arrow by one of the guards on the ship. Normally he would have been fine but the wound got infected and the war had effectively ended trade, making it impossible to get herbs from the continents. 

“Your mother and grandmother worked day and night trying to heal him. They washed his wound every hour and used any remaining herbs they could find. After several days of this, he gathered his strength to speak and sat them both down. I remember what he said because I was there. He told them that he was in pain and was going to die regardless of what they did, and that he wanted his last moments to be filled with their smiles, not their tears. He asked them to let him go so they all could be at peace.”

The whole room was silent for a moment as Hakoda finished speaking. Finally Katara looked up, tear-tracks gleaming on her dark cheeks. “They let him die?” Her voice broke on the final word.

Hakoda shook his head and reached out to take his daughter’s hand. “Everyone dies, Katara. They let him have peace and enjoy his final moments instead of mourning while he still lived. Your mother changed after that. She had this new calmness surrounding her, as if she was no longer afraid of death for herself or those around her. I think that’s how she was able to save you.”

Katara squeezed his hand, breathing deeply to fight the rush of emotion. After a few moments she looked up. “I guess I understand what my grandfather wanted and why. But it’s not the same as this at all. What can I do for these people who can’t die? Who can’t pass on? I can’t save them but they can’t find peace.”

Hakoda frowned, his expression mimicked on her siblings’ faces as well. “Whatever is going on, it isn’t natural. Unfortunately, I think this is beyond us now. We just got a letter from Iroh though.” Katara’s eyes shot back up to his. “He’s with the Avatar. Hopefully they can figure out what to do.”  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
_Katara was confused when she looked at the man sitting on the bed in front of her. He looked sort of like Aang, but older. Distantly she realized he was older now and this was probably her imagination of what he’d look like if they met again. She watched as he dropped his head into his hands, sighing. “Spirits,” she heard him mutter, though the sound was muffled, as though she was listening through a door. “What do I do?”_

_A hand reached out to Aang’s shoulder, but it wasn’t hers. Katara turned to see another woman in blue reaching out her hand to Aang. Her hair was long with waves like the sea and her eyes were white and empty. Her whole face was empty._

_Katara jumped back with a small cry of horror, but the woman didn’t seem to notice her. Instead, she sat down next to Aang and drew him to her. He didn’t see either of them, but Katara could see his shoulders relax._

_Before she could move closer, the scene around her changed. She was standing at the mouth of a pit, looking down at a horrific scene. Aang and the young woman were scrambling up the side of the cliff, running from a mass of fog with a vaguely humanoid shape. The form reached out a hand and blasted the wall right next to Aang’s head. He and the woman fell to the floor as the mass of fog began to whip and twist like waterspout._

_As Katara began to run around the edge of the cliff, trying to get to a place where she could help them, the form in the center of the twister turned toward her, and she was frozen by glowing green eyes._

_“Do not interfere. They belong to me.” The voice was low and hissed through the air like steam escaping a kettle._

_Katara backed away slowly, terrified by the being in front of her. Above her she heard a sound like an incoming storm and looked up to see a dragon, belching flame at the form. She heard a cry as she turned and ran, but she tripped and fell. There was no impact. Just falling, falling._

When Katara finally awoke, she was drenched in sweat. _“He’s mine.”_ The voice whispered again, like an echo from the dream. She couldn’t stop shaking.


	8. The End

Aang had spent most of the last two days since going to the hospital lying in bed, thinking. How could death be good for anyone? Death was the enemy! But even as the thought entered his mind it was interrupted, as it always was, but the face of Mae Lin, grey and fatigued and dying, yet unable to die.

He was lost. Alone with the teachings of a people who were gone. Spirits, if only he could talk to Monk Gyatso. 

Aang paused for a moment, looking at his hands where they fidgeted in his lap. Maybe he couldn’t talk to Gyatso, but just maybe he could contact one of his other Avatar lives. Yangchen. 

Aang took a breath and began to meditate. He’d spent so much time in the spirit world lately that it hardly took him any time to enter. However, this time he wasn’t going to see Ummi. 

When he opened his eyes to the mirror of his room, he smiled and began to focus on Yangchen, the Air Nomad avatar before him. “Avatar Yangchen! Please, I need your wisdom. The world is in chaos.” His voice was clear and commanding, even to himself.

“It’s been a long time, Aang.”

The Avatar opened his eyes to see a woman with long, straight brown hair covering her tattoos and yellow and red robes so much like his own. 

“Yangchen,” he said relieved. “I didn’t think you’d come. I haven’t been able to contact my past lives in years.” 

“Yes,” she agreed. “You called out to us while hiding yourself from us. We could not come to you while you fled. Today, you have come to us fully, seeking counsel, although I don’t know what I can offer you.”

Aang frowned. “I wasn’t hiding. I needed counsel then too.”

Yangchen just watched Aang, silent and unyielding. He began to feel uncomfortable. Unbidden, memories from those years passed across his vision. He saw himself covering his tattoos, hiding from the people of the world. He saw himself receiving letters from his friends (back when they still wrote letters) and then packing them up without replying. He saw the scattered rebellions across the Fire Nation, those who demanded that Zuko put Ozai back on the throne, calling him a traitor and usurper. 

Aang bowed his head. “I had been so sure I’d done the right thing when the war ended. But nothing was easy afterward. The only thing I’d done was defeat Ozai and take his bending. I thought that was what I was supposed to have done. When I learned why the rebellions were spreading, that they still claimed Ozai was the rightful Fire Lord, I ran.”

Yangchen nodded. “Now, my young Avatar, what counsel do you seek from me?”

Aang looked up at her, quiet for a long moment. “How is it that the Air Nomads speak of the value in balance and freedom while treating death as the enemy of life?”

Yangchen’s face split into a wide smile. “The Air Nomads, like all peoples, have their shortcomings. In their quest to be fair and balanced, they neglected a very real truth: death is nothing more or less than the second half of life. They are one, yin and yang. There is no death without life but there is no life without death either.”

Aang’s mouth hung slightly ajar as he looked at his former life. “You mean,” he said faintly. “They were just wrong?”

The monk’s spirit looked thoughtful for a moment before shaking her head. “They were right to honor and cherish life, leaving death to nature’s hand. However, over time they overstepped wisdom here and forgot that in some situations, death is necessary. Very few of the monks in my time would have argued that the current state of affairs is for the best, but many would have agreed with your decision to leave Ozai alive. And yet you have come to regret that choice.”

Aang nodded, thoughtfully. “Then, I only have one other question.” He looked into her eyes and asked the question that had troubled him most over the past days. “What do I do?”

Yangchen smiled sadly, her voice growing softer with each word. “Unfortunately, only you can answer that.” In the space of a breath, Aang found himself alone.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Late into the night, Aang paced his room. As far as he could see, there was only one possible way to reopen the gate. The End had told him that the gate would be shut until what was stolen had been returned. He would not sacrifice Ummi to it though. There had to be another way. 

Finally, he went downstairs, intending to go sit with Appa under the stars, but he paused when he saw a light on in Iroh’s study. Perhaps the old general would be able to provide him with advice.

When Aang knocked quietly on the door, Iroh’s voice welcomed him inside. “Aang,” his eyes lit up when they settled on the young man. “What a pleasant surprise. Come, sit and have some tea.”

Aang nodded and settled across the table from his friend. In the low light of the candle, Iroh looked older than Aang had ever seen him. He thought he saw the aged general’s hands trembling as they poured the tea. Aang sighed. 

“Sir, I need your help.” Iroh nodded slowly, not looking up until the tea was poured for both of them. “I have to reopen the gate.”

Iroh raised a grey eyebrow. “I thought you were glad people weren’t dying. Isn’t that what you’ve spent your life working toward? Saving lives?”

Aang sighed again. “Holding someone’s spirit hostage in a dying body isn’t saving lives. Besides, the balance of the world is upset without death. I—” he paused as he took a sip of tea. “I spoke to Avatar Yangchen. She agreed with me that the monks were overzealous in their condemnation of death.”

Iroh studied him over the rim of his teacup and Aang’s shoulders fell as he continued speaking. “I should have killed Ozai. I’m the reason Zuko spent the last decade fighting rebellions.”

“Although I tend to agree that you should have killed my brother as a favor to him and the rest of the world, my nephew would have faced rebellions no matter what you did.” Iroh’s voice was thoughtful, and Aang looked up at him quickly. “The Fire Nation is a proud people who didn’t want to return to the world stage having been defeated. Zuko could not usher in peace without making many people angry. You did what you thought was right and faced the consequences, just as everyone else must.

“I once thought the war was just. I believed, as so many did, that we were bringing the culture and prosperity of the Fire Nation to the rest of the world. I took many regrettable actions based on that belief and ultimately lost my son because of it. It was only afterwards that I realized my mistakes.

“Aang,” Iroh said softly, his eyes locked on the Avatar’s. “You were a child, following the teachings of his elders. You may have learned to regret your actions, but running from the consequences doesn’t erase your mistakes. Only by facing the outcome, learning from your mistakes, and helping clean up from those mistakes can you make it right.”

Aang stared at Iroh, before finally looking away. “I can make this right, but if I do, I cannot help bring peace.”

“You have brought peace.” Iroh reminded him, smiling. “You defeated my brother and stopped the war.”

“Then does the world really need me?” He asked quietly. 

Iroh frowned. “The world doesn’t really need any one of us. But then again, it needs us all to stand up for what’s right each day. What’s on your mind Aang?”

Aang took a breath and grit his teeth. He looked up at Iroh with a determination the old man hadn’t seen there since the war ended. “I think I know what I have to do.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
Aang stood at the entrance to the Spirit Oasis, watching the blue clad woman who sat there. He didn’t want to do this. This had not been part of his plan.

_“It is not your choice to make. You must let her decide.”_

Iroh was probably right, of course, but it didn’t make Aang any happier about what he was about to do. 

“Ummi,” he said gently, as he reached the pool. 

She looked up at him and reached out her hand to his. He smiled and took her hand, guiding himself to sit down next to her. 

“Ummi, I have to go away.” Her hand squeezed his sharply, and Aang paused, choosing his words carefully. “It’s your choice if you want to come with me. It could be dangerous, but I will protect you the best I can. I have to go back to the End.”

Ummi tugged at his hand, urging him to stay with her. 

“I know,” he said softly, cupping her cheek. “But you can stay here with the fish if you’d like. I just don’t know if I’ll be able to visit again.”

She shook her head, tugging his hand again. 

“I’m sorry, Ummi.” His voice felt tight and his eyes prickled. “I have to go.” 

He gently released her hand and started walking, worried that he wouldn’t have the nerve the follow through with his plan if he looked back at her. As he walked out into the frozen tundra of the North Pole, he felt a small, warm hand slide into his. 

He turned, wondering and found her face next to his. She squeezed his hand gently. Aang hurriedly wiped his eyes and squeezed back. 

They traveled slowly in their silence, but Aang felt it was far too soon when they arrived back at the island at the end of the world. The walked across the dark sand and up to the cliffs. When they reached the top, Aang took a breath and called out. “Keeper of the Gate! The End of All Things! Show yourself!”

The world around them was silent. “Well, if it isn’t the thief. What do you want?”

Aang shuddered at the voice, the hiss that broke the stillness. “I—” his voice faltered, but Ummi squeezed his hand. “I made a mistake. I stole from you and upset the balance of the world. I am here to make reparations.” 

A figure of mist appeared in front of him, hovering over the hidden gate. “You brought back the girl. How… _sweet_. Do you think she pays your debt?”

Aang shook his head. He stepped down onto the rocks and Ummi followed him, her hand steady in his. “I stole from you two lives. I offer two.”

From the mist suddenly came two piercing green lights—eyes. A cold laugh echoed across the island, and Ummi clung to him, shaking now but not attempting to flee. “You’ve grown wise, Avatar. I accept your offer.”

The rocks beneath their feet cracked and turned to sand as green filled Aang’s vision. 

In a small hospital bed in Ba Sing Se, a young girl with dulled green eyes took a last labored breath before her pain finally ceased.


	9. Epilogue

Historians had many theories about what caused the nearly two weeks when no one died. Some believed it was chance. Others thought the records were wrong and that of course people had died. Only a few knew the true story. Katara and Sokka arrived in Ba Sing Se less than a week after it ended, as Appa had met their boat midway. Fire Lord Zuko had already begun the journey before death returned and arrived within a day of them. 

There they found Iroh and a grieving Toph. The friends sat together, and even the stoic Fire Lord cried. However, that night, as they all fell into an exhausted slumber, Katara had another dream. In this one, she saw Aang and the woman from her last dream in a small cottage on a mountain. Outside were flying bison and lemurs. As Katara watched, the woman’s face turned and she saw that her face was normal now. Her blue eyes stared into Aang’s grey eyes as they held each other. 

When Katara woke, she felt more peaceful. She told her friends of the dream. Iroh smiled gently and mumbled something about Koh losing in the end. 

After the funeral procession, a massive affair that brought mourners from across all four nations, the friends readied themselves to return home. 

“Iroh, can I ask you a question?” Katara said slowly, peeking into his office on the day of their departure. 

“Of course my dear. Come in.” He replied, his voice sad.

“When will we know who the new Avatar is? He or she will be born soon right? At one of the poles?”

Iroh sighed, and laid his forehead lightly on his folded hands. “I’m afraid there will be no more Avatars.”

Katara stilled, her eyes wide. 

“Aang did not die. He left this world. He passed through the gateway at the End.”

“But why would he do that?” Her voice was louder than she expected, and tears rolled down her face. “He’s the Avatar! We needed him! Someone else should have gone.”

Iroh shook his head slowly. “Aang would disagree with you. He did not believe the world needed an Avatar anymore. He watched you and your friends rebuild the world while he mourned the loss of his childhood and knew that the world was in good hands.”

Katara felt a sob wrench from her throat. “But what if there’s another war? Who will maintain balance?”

Iroh took her hand gently and squeezed it. “Then we need good men and women like you and your friends to step up. Aang defeated my brother to end the war, but he never would have made it that far without you.”

Katara thought of that conversation many times over the next several years. As she taught Sokka’s daughter to waterbend and traveled the world healing the sick, she remembered what the old general had said. They were the ones keeping balance. The world of the Avatar had ended forever when the Air Nomads fell. Aang had been kept alive by the spirits to restore the world to a new balance between the three remaining nations. Now it was their turn to maintain balance.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My dear readers, I'm sure many of you are upset with the ending to this story. In the annals of fanfiction, many stories exist where the Air Nomads are restored and the line of Avatars continues unbroken. However, I felt this story also needed to be written. This was the story of a boy who awoke into a world that had survived without him for a century, a world where everyone and everything he'd known had been destroyed. In his desperation to maintain a belief that was a last remnant of a lost culture, he threw the world out of balance. Only by sacrificing everything and facing his own shortcomings could he return that balance.
> 
> I hope you take comfort in his final defeat of Koh and in Katara's dreams. I don't know what happens after the End any more than other humans, but I choose to believe, as Gandalf does, that across the sea lies a peaceful world of white shores and green trees where the weary of the world find rest. Here, Aang and Ummi found peace together. And perhaps, at the End of all Things, they will be reunited with their loved ones again.
> 
> Thank you for reading.


End file.
